


There was love inside the basement

by aluminummonster



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-27 17:20:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6293143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aluminummonster/pseuds/aluminummonster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And that's when she gets the idea--- the crazy, stupid, reckless and dangerous idea... Sitting up suddenly she'll take his can from him, set it down on the coffee table next to hers. "Kiss me." She'll blurt, a flush cascading over her cheeks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There was love inside the basement

**Author's Note:**

> Some hs chardee. ;) This is my first attempt at iasip fics, I'm just now getting back into the fic writing game so idk lmao. I really don't know if I'll do a follow up or if it's just a one-shot but have this for now at least

How had Dee ended up locked down in the basement of the Reynolds' home with Charlie? The simplest answer in the shortest amount of words was ' Dennis '. It's a Friday night, the guys are sleeping over... They'll be around all weekend if Dennis doesn't tire of them and shoo them out the front door like one might do to a stray animal that was poking around the garbage cans... But after a few beers that have been carefully nabbed from their father's stash, Dennis has grown predictably tired of his sister's incessant loitering, her need to hover around him... Getting rid of Charlie is just an added bonus, one less mouth to funnel alcohol into therefore leaving more for him and Ronnie...

  
The whole thing had only taken a couple minutes of plotting... Ronnie was on board almost immediately. His only hesitation came from the fact that Charlie was involved as well. But Dennis has always excelled at getting what he wants, a little berating is all it takes before he caves. Ronnie is comfortable in the knowledge that no matter what, things would not change between him and Charlie. All transgressions would be forgiven, brushed off, or not acknowledged at all. Much like Dennis and Dee, there is is no separating Ronnie and Charlie. The former are bound by a genetic tie, they are practically two halves of the same person, the latter because they had no one else, they understood each other... Coming from a similar socioeconomic background, similar shitty parental situations and living within walking distance from each other, they have formed a friendship that would last well into their adult years... And what was a little prank among friends, after-all?

  
Dennis was the brains of the operation, he always was, always would be ( he's insistent of that ) so it was his job to lure the Aluminum Monster and Dirtgrub into the basement. Spewing some blatant lies about how he had caught Frank smoking pot down there and that he knew where the old bastard kept his stash, Dennis makes a show of them all four heading down to the basement in order to acquire the stash for themselves... Dee's notably suspicious at his insistence that her and Charlie go first, and it's warranted. Because the moment that the two are halfway down the stairs, he pulls the door shut instead of following, Ronnie is eagerly waiting with a chair that he wedges against the door effectively severing the friend group into twos.

  
Dee hasn't even managed to flip on the lights when her surroundings are plunged into darkness. "Goddammit!" Scrambling back up the stairs, her fists will pound against the door, she tries turning the knob once, twice, five times to no avail. "Dennis you son of a--- !!" Because it's his idea, she knows it it. She had suspected something was up the minute he mentioned the basement, it was her own damn fault for not covering her bases better. Flipping the light switch at the top of stairs, the recessed lighting will illuminate their surroundings, she can hear the pair lingering to admire their handiwork, giggling like a couple of schoolgirls. She'll give the door a kick for good measure, it accomplishes nothing more than a resounding ' THUD ' and pain shooting through her foot.

  
"So, uh, think we can find the pot that's down here?"

  
The voice causes her to turn around and fix Charlie with a dumbfounded look. How could someone be so dumb? Or maybe, it was just being naive. Sometimes, Dee thought that Charlie was able to see the best in people even, and especially, when they didn't deserve it.

  
"There's no goddamn pot, Charlie. Quit being such an idiot!" She'll snap, push past him on the stairs and step down onto the lower level of the house... It's nice, for a basement, but the Reynolds wouldn't have it any other way. They had money, and they liked to show it, to brag, to rub their wealth into other people's faces... There was no way that they would have any part of their large estate that wasn't in tiptop shape. The space doubles as a home theater with a separate area that housed work-out equipment. There's a punching bag there and boxing gloves... Remnants from Frank's boxing days that sat untouched unless some business deal went south or arguments with Barbara got especially heated.

  
Dee can vaguely recall being brought down here when she was about six or seven, she'd been crying because Dennis had pushed her down at the playground and Barbara had done nothing to reprimand him. She remembers Frank being furious at his wife after examining her scrapped up knees and hands, the yelling match that had ensued before her father had scooped her up in his arms and carted her down here. It was Frank's sanctuary more than any of the purposes it had been designed for, he'd shared it with his daughter that day, sitting her down on the weight-lifting bench and donning his gloves. "Ya can't let little pricks push ya around, Deandra. Not even if they're your brother. Especially not your brother, got me?" Dee would nod, then watch as her father began to hit the bag, and she'd wondered even then if he pictured it was Barbara.

  
Already, she's come to grips with the situation... There are worse places to be stuck, worse people to be trapped with. Charlie's hovering close to the bottom step, eyes downcast, focused on his shoes as he plays with the hem of a dirty shirt. Dee doesn't have to be good at reading people to know he's uncomfortable, likely a result of her snapping at him, but she's at a loss of how she could fix it. In fact, she wonders why she cares whether he's uncomfortable, why she'd bother trying to fix it in the first place...

* * *

  
"I've never.... Eaten spiders." Pale pink lips twist upwards in a satisfied smirk as she watches Charlie raise the can of Budweiser and take a swig. It's a drinking game, one that she feels like she's winning every time she makes him drink. They are both seated on the couch, facing each other with their backs resting against the armrests. Dee had ditched the back brace the moment Barbara retreated into her bedroom with a pill bottle and a bottle of wine. It's so freeing to kick that metal cage to the side, to feel normal again... Like Dee Reynolds instead of some freak. And in the well-lit basement, the bright pink steaks are visible against her natural blond hair when she runs her fingers through it, another rebellious and stupid ploy in order to piss off her mother...

  
"I've uh, never met my dad. " Charlie counters, scratching at his left ear and Dee will slug down another swig in blissful ignorance that she has never met her father either.  
"I've... Never been kissed." The last three words fly from her in one quick burst. Kicking herself, she's preparing to get mocked, Dennis would--- he'd call her pathetic then brag about going down on Chrissy Orlando on the trampoline. Instead, Charlie remains motionless, saying nothing. In fact, she can practically see the gears turning in his head as he tries to think of his next ' I Never ' ready to move on with their stupid little game as if her confession was no big deal.

  
It's not that she's that surprised that Charlie hasn't been kissed either. He didn't have the same interest in girls that her brother did ( and that Ronnie pretended to have ). His reputation at school was just as atrocious as hers was, branded a 'loser' for circumstances that neither of them could fully control, who would he have kissed anyways?  
And that's when she gets the idea--- the crazy, stupid, reckless and dangerous idea... Sitting up suddenly she'll take his can from him, set it down on the coffee table next to hers. "Kiss me." She'll blurt, a flush cascading over her cheeks.

  
"Wha--?" He's confused, and reasonably so. No matter how many times they 'accidentally' hang out after being ditched by Dennis and Ronnie or conveniently chilling behind the bleachers during school dances to avoid the fact that neither of them had a date, she'd never proposed something so bold. And well, weird.

  
"Think about it, Charlie... Everyone makes such a big deal out of first kisses, you know? And if you haven't been kissed you're just like pathetic. It's social suicide to be seventeen and still be a kiss virgin. So we should kiss. That way we can say we've done it. And we don't ever have to actually say who we kissed, that's not the important part. The important part is that we've been kissed, got it?"

  
He still looks unsure, and Dee wonders whether his hesitation comes from the prospect of kissing in general or from kissing HER. "Hey, just close your eyes, it's not a big deal. We're just getting it out of the way, right?" Either she's convinced him, or Charlie just doesn't feel like arguing and would rather lock lips with Dee Reynolds just to get it over with and move on with more 'normal' behavior, because he'll move his head in a subtle nodding motion which prompts her to scoot closer to him.

  
For this kiss being 'no big deal' her heart sure was pounding against her rib cage. She doesn't know what she's doing, her only real knowledge comes from the stupid romance movies she watches... But she'll do her best to imitate societies standard of a 'good kiss', leaning forward, her hand will rest against his neck. Usually in the movies, the guy is the one that moves forward, the woman just closes that last little gap, but in this instance, she's doing all the movement... Leaning, leaning, leaning, eyes closed, until her lips brush against his. It's clumsy, and clunky. He tastes overwhelmingly like beer, the scent fills her nose at the close proximity but she's sure that the same could be said about her.

  
Maybe kissing is overrated, maybe she doesn't do it right, because when she pulls back, scoots away quickly like she's been burned, she doesn't feel like the ladies seem to in the movies. She hadn't felt fireworks, nor had a realization that this was her soulmate, her one true love. All she felt was an unsettling mixture of too much beer swirling in her empty stomach tinged with regret... "See, I told you it was no big deal, Charlie..."


End file.
